"In the Vale of Grasmere, by the side of the old high-way 
      leading to Ambleside, is a gate which, time out of mind, has been 
      called the Wishing-gate."
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        Having been told, upon what I thought good authority, that this 
      gate had been destroyed, and the opening, where it hung, walled 
      up, I gave vent immediately to my feelings in these stanzas. But 
      going to the place some time after, I found, with much delight, my 
      old favourite unmolested.